


Smile like A C I D

by Lafyel



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Incest if you squint, Killjoy AU, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafyel/pseuds/Lafyel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the killjoys are humanoid weapons and cannot die.</p><p>character death is not a permanent thing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile like A C I D

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a contest over on DA that asked for participants to write what they think happens after the SING video. I had an actual idea that didn't seem lame, so I went a head and made something.
> 
> Originally posted on my LJ back in March, 2012
> 
> Also note, that a lovely lady made this podfic reading of this: http://yourlisten.com/kingHAT/smile-like-a-c-i-d

**Smile like A C I D**  
  
The first breath is always the most painful.  
  
It’s sudden and rips through his lungs, leaves a burning sensation in his chest. He gasps out in response, eyes snapping open, wide and glossy. The sensations always snowball from there.  
  
A sudden and sharp pain behind the eyes.  
  
A convulsion in his spine that causes him to twist on the small bed.  
  
A dry throat that fucking burns with every breath.  
  
His chest hurts – hurts like he’s been holding his breath for decades.  
  
The spasms running rampant in his spine seep out, moving slowly to his limps. He can’t stop himself as he falls the few inches from the bed to the floor, twisting and gasping for more air. His nerves are on fire and he feels hot, too hot – can feel the sweat starting to trickle down his back as he rolls on the floor.  
  
He reaches up, grabs at his hair and pulls, eyes burning against the white.  
  
Everything is so fucking white. The walls, the tile floor, the ceiling, the bed and even the sheets – the clothes they dressed him in.  
  
Pristine and pure.  
  
It’s too white and he squeezes his eyes shut against it all, fights back against a scream trying to rip its self from his throat.  
  
He bites his tongue in the process, the metallic coppery taste of blood following almost instantly. He rolls onto his stomach and manages to get his arms under control, pushes himself up.  
  
He spits, coughs out and almost gages on the air as his body sucks in more oxygen. His eyes focus in on the red dripping from his lips onto the floor.  
  
The color seems to snap his mind back into place, seems to dull the pain behind his eyes and nullify the convulsions his body’s having. His arms feel weak suddenly and he drops onto the floor, rolls to his back and stares up at the ceiling.  
  
“Fuck…” he breathes out, voice broken and scratchy. “Just – Fuck…”  
  
Party Poison closes his eyes, let’s the ringing in his ears pick up the silence.  
  
-  
  
It’s a good hour later when he manages to move, to hoist himself up onto the small white bed cemented to a masonry slab. Poison closes his eyes as he drops his head onto the pillow, let’s the quite of the room try and over power the ache in his skull.  
  
He’s the first one back, if the silence in his mind tells him anything.  
  
Poison let’s a smirk fall into place on his lips, turns his face and pushes it into the pillow. He hadn’t anticipated that they’d keep his body, they never have in the past…  
  
…then again they probably were beginning to wonder how they kept coming back.  
  
 _Killjoy’s never die_  they’ve always said.  
  
-  
  
There’s a cut out for a door in the center of the wall that his feet are pointed at. There’s no door handle, no other indications that it  _is_  a door aside from the outline. Poison thinks that it slides into the wall, like an elevator door, has to be the only way it opens.  
  
He likes this thought because it means it’s mechanical.  
  
He’s good with mechanical things.  
  
Poison forces back his smile and glances around the room, like he’s expecting to have missed a surveillance camera. He can’t see any, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. It doesn’t change the itching sensation under his skin telling him that he’s being watched.  
  
The Drac’s probably think he’s some kind of zombie now.  
  
After all he was very clearly dead some time ago – took a raygun shot to the head.  
  
And now he is very clearly not dead in one of their holding rooms.  
  
-  
  
Poison doesn’t understand why he’s in a holding room. He’s always thought that if they ever did catch on, that they’d toss his body into a jail cell – not this overly white and too sterile room. He kind of wants to ask, whenever someone finally shows up, why they chose to put him there.  
  
He knows from experience what these kinds of rooms are for.  
  
Then again he’s giving too much credit to the Scarecrow unit – they probably have no actual idea about him or the other Killjoy’s. Poison has always secretly thought that they were just following orders to get Grace back.  
  
He’s never admitted it to anyone…  
  
Verbally  
  
Because he and Kobra Kid can’t hide anything from each other.  
  
-  
  
He’s fallen asleep and woken up before anyone shows up at the room. The door makes a soft swishing sound as it slides into the wall. Poison rolls so that he’s no longer facing the wall and stares at the Drac. It’s a man, they always are, he can tell from his build.  
  
The Drac is holding a tray with what looks like food – a white bread sandwich and some water on the side. He takes only a step into the room and sets the tray down. The man stands and backs out, not turning his back to Poison. The second the door is shut Poison sits up, grins to himself in the too white room.  
  
He stands and picks the tray up, sits down on the bed with it. Next to the water is a small paper cup with two pills in it.  
  
They’re white as well.  
  
Poison’s grin turns into a smirk, cynical and full of twisted humor.  
  
He eats the sandwich and drinks the water.  
  
-  
  
The next time the door opens it isn’t someone to pick up the tray; it’s a woman in fact. She’s wearing a light gray suit and has her bangs cut in the straightest line Poison has ever seen. She doesn’t look at him when she takes a step into the room, a Drac following behind her.  
  
A white raygun is pointed at him and he frowns.  
  
“Putting aside the fact that you are still  _here_  can you tell me why you aren’t in the system?”  
  
Party Poison stares at the Drac, his vision lined with chunks of unwashed red hair. His eyes dart towards the Asian woman, lips quirking up at the corners.  
  
“No.”  
  
The woman frowns, her eye brows knitting together.  
  
“Why are you not in the system?” She asks again, tone becoming something automated sounding.  
  
“Why do you have me here?”  
  
The Drac behind the woman takes a threatening step, raygun pointed at him. Poison wants to laugh at him, at his attempt at intimidation. He doesn’t though, keeps his mouth shut as the female moves her arm out to the side, gestures for the Drac to stand down.  
  
“You and the blond male had shown signs of life when we were transporting the bodies.”  
  
Party Poison stands at this, surprise showing up on his face. “The blond one?” He asks.  
  
The woman nods, turns just slightly and the Drac steps to the side, lets her leave the room first.  
  
“Wait!” Poison shouts as the raygun is pointed at him again. “Kobra’s here too?!” The Drac is already out of the room by the time he finishes speaking, the door sliding shut.  
  
The redhead is left standing there, unease twisting in his gut.  
  
If Kobra was showing life right after him that means he had to have gone down within seconds of his own death. Poison drops down on the mattress, fingers digging into the edge.  
  
The silence in his skull is unnerving now that he knows Kid could already be awake somewhere.  
  
-  
  
Poison’s lying on his side facing the wall, face turned towards the pillow to block out some of the light. There’s a dull ache behind his eyes, a throbbing sensation just behind his ears. He knows what it is, has felt it before.  
  
The pains comforting in a way, lets him know that he’s not alone.  
  
Poison squeezes his eyes shut, a spark of pain shooting between them. He turns and presses his face into the pillow, wants to shout as the feeling becomes more concentrated. His mouth hangs open as a pained gasp is muffled by the pillow.  
  
It’s like someone flipped a switch, hit him in the back of his head – except it’s  _inside_  his skull.  
  
Poison rolls on the mattress and presses his face farther into the pillow, almost screams this time. He feels it too, muted like ripples through water, feel’s it in waves.  
  
He hates it, but it’s reassuring.  
  
The constricted sensation in his chest, the suddenly dry feeling in his throat – the pain shooting up his spine and ricocheting down to his fingertips…  
  
They’re all reminders, all indicators that tell him he isn’t alone anymore.  
  
-  
  
It takes a good amount of time before he can formulate a sentence, before he fully feels his presence.  
  
Poison’s lying on his back, eyes shut and red hair sticking to his forehead. The pain he felt may have been muted but it was still there, was still enough to send him into a cold sweat. He feels groggy now, like he needs to sleep – like he’s been up and running the zones for hours…  
  
 _’Hey…’  
  
‘It’s good to have you back…’_  
  
The redhead smiles, lips dry and cracking a little. He can feel him smile back, knows that he’s lying in a similar room facing the wall.  
  
 _‘…why are we…?’  
  
‘I don’t know Mikey.’_  
  
-  
  
The door to his room slides open and the woman is back. She stands there a moment before turning to look at Party Poison.  
  
“What is your name?”  
  
“Party Po-“  
  
“Your name, not a code name.” Her voice sounds monotonous yet stern, feels robotic to the redhead.  
  
 _’She won’t find it even if you tell her.’_  Poison smiles at Kobra’s comment, has to force back an even larger grin at the look he’s given.  
  
“Why?” He asks.  
  
“Were you listed as deceased or as MIA?” The woman counters.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Then why are you not in the system?” Poison can see the masked irritation on her face, can see it hidden in her eyes.  
  
“If you weren’t told, then you’re not high enough in the company.”  
  
-  
  
 _’We need to get out, before they figure it out.’_  
  
Poison is leaning against the wall, legs stretched out before him and hands folded in his lap. His eyes are shut and his head is tilted up. He can see Mikey, Kobra Kid, in his mind, sitting in the exact same position on the other side of the wall.  
  
They figured it out some time ago, that they were being kept next to each other.  
  
 _’I know, Jet and Ghoul are probably freaking out now…’_  
  
 _’What do you think we should do…?’_  Kobra’s already nudging around inside of Poison’s mind, looking at the half formulated plans that he has.  
  
 _’Which one do you think works best?’_  Poison doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he can feel the other inside his head, pulling up different bits of information. Kobra makes a humming sound, is about to reply when the door to Poison’s room slides open.  
  
The Asian woman stands there with a tray of food, takes a step in and sets it down. She doesn’t have a Drac with her this time, doesn’t even appear to have a ray gun on hand. The door slides shut leaving her in the room and there’s suddenly silence in Poison’s mind.  
  
The tray is set down on the bed, in the middle as the woman sits down on the edge. She faces Party Poison, sits with impeccable posture and her head held high. Poison thinks she’s threatened by him – not physically, but mentally, by what he knows.  
  
Kobra agrees.  
  
“Why are you here?”  
  
“I woke up here.”  
  
The woman frowns and leans forward a little. “How.” She’s referring to his sudden waking.  
  
 _’Why not tell her, she’ll probably shut up then.’_  Kobra seems irritated and Poison doesn’t quite understand why.  
  
“It can’t be explained.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
The red head leans forward, places his hands on the floor and smirks up at the female. “Tell me, do you know why you’re hunting down Grace?”  
  
There’s silence and Poison’s smirk stretches across his face.  
  
 _’Careful what you say…’_  He’s warned.  
  
 _‘I know.’_  “You don’t, do you.”  
  
“I do not see why I should question my superiors.”  
  
“Then live on in ignorance.” Poison leans back against the wall, mirrors Kobra’s position on the other side of the wall again. The woman stands and walks towards the door, let’s her back face him as she goes to leave the room.  
  
“How is it that you know he’s there?” She asks.  
  
“Because that’s what they did to us.”  
  
“They?”  
  
“The leaders of Bl/ind.”  
  
The door slides shut and doesn’t open for a long time.  
  
-  
  
 _’You upset her.’_  Kobra says as Poison tries to block out the light of the room. The older male has his face pressed into the mattress, the pillow sitting above his head. The air is humid beneath the pillow and makes it hard to breath.  
  
 _’She asks to many stupid questions._  
  
Kobra huffs in response, rolls on the bed in his room.  _’She’s curious, you can’t blame her._  
  
Poison almost bites back with a childish reply, irritated at the bright light. He’s tired and feels like he hasn’t slept well in weeks.  
  
 _’We haven’t been here that long._  The blond man adds in.  
  
Party Poison grumbles into the mattress and shifts on the bed.  _’I know,’_  he retorts.  _’It’s just hard to sleep when you’re not here.’  
  
‘I am here though, Gee…’_  
  
Poison lets out a low whine before tossing the pillow off the bed.  
  
 _’Come lie in the corner with me…’_  Kobra sends a wave of calm into the older male, tries to lower the man’s anxiety.  _’I’m right here.’_  
  
The red head stands and walks to the far corner of the room, lies down on the too white floor. He closes his eyes and can see Kobra facing him, lying in a mirroring position.  
  
-  
  
Poison’s awoken abruptly when the door slides open and the Asian woman steps into the room.  
  
“How do you do it?” She’s asks, voice losing its monotonous quality. She sounds frustrated now and if the red head was more awake he’d find it amusing.  
  
“What?” He asks, having not fully heard the sentence.  
  
“How do you do it, mimic his positions.”  
  
Poison blinks and sits up, arm aching from lying on it. He looks at the wall, can feel Kobra listening to them, half asleep still.  
  
“I told you, it’s what they did to us.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Her tone fluctuates, her frustration and annoyance seeping into her stoic façade. Poison leans his forehead against the white wall, places his hand against it.  
  
“They made us one and the same person.” He says, fingers itching to touch the younger man. “Two bodies, one mind.”  
  
“How…?” The woman sounds breathless, like she wasn’t expecting him to actually tell her.  
  
“I want to see him. Put us in the same room.” Poison turns just slightly, eyes sharp and demanding.  
  
 _’Mikes – are you ready?’_  
  
-  
  
Kobra is standing in the middle of the room when the door opens. He’s dressed the same as Poison – white shirt, white pants, bare feet. The second the red head is in the room the door is shut and there’s this sense of being alone suddenly. Poison walks over to the younger man and hugs him, presses his face into his shoulder.  
  
 _’I didn’t think she’d let us.’  
  
‘I know.’_  The blond closes his eyes, tilts his head down just a little.  _’I wonder how long we have till she comes back._  
  
Poison nods, tightens his grip on the younger man, on his brother.  
  
“This is better.” He says.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“It’s hard when I can’t be near you.”  
  
Kobra smiles, presses a kiss against the older man’s temple. “I know, Gee.”  
  
-  
  
The next time the door opens and the women steps inside the room, there’s a Drac with her. Poison looks at Kobra and they share a silent agreement of shock at the single Drac.  
  
 _’This shouldn’t be too hard…_  
  
The Asian woman is staring at them, a clear and present frown set onto her features. “You’ve had enough time together, it’s time to go back to your own room.” The Drac steps to the side as she backs out of the room.  
  
They do it then, years and years of practice, or being together making it simple – easy.  
  
Poison moves first, distracts the man’s attention, red hair creating a focal point, the sudden movement of color forcing him to turn.  
  
The raygun is raised and aimed, is almost fired when Kobra moves in from the side, grabs at his wrist and squeezes with all his strength. He yanks the ray gun free and fires at the Drac. Poison steps into the hall followed by Kobra, raygun raised and pointed at the woman.  
  
They share a silent agreement and he doesn’t shoot.  
  
They run, down the hall and around the corner.  
  
Poison’s hair creates the focal point, draws the attention of any Drac’s they pass – Kobra shoots as they overlook him. Precision and tact – it’s how they were trained. They make it up stairs by the time the alarm sounds.  
  
The intercom crackles to life above them, shouts orders at the Drac’s, declares them a code red situation.  
  
Poison laughs, irony with the color.  
  
“Red is appropriate though.” Kobra says as they run down a hall and take a quick left. “White would be-“  
  
“Weird, I know.” Poison crouches down and peers around the corner. “One more floor right?”  
  
“Yeah, unless they remodeled since we lived here.”  
  
The redhead snorts at this. He glances back at the Kobra and nods before he runs out and down the hall. The Drac’s swarm in on him and Kobra fires, takes each one down with ease, completely unnoticed in the background.  
  
At the end of the hall they disappear behind a door, into the stair well. They take the steps two and three at a time, jogging up until they reach the ground floor. Above them the siren continues to sound, their positions continuously being shouted out over the speaker.  
  
Poison cracks the door from the stair well and gets a quick glance into the hall.  
  
“Almost there.” He says to Kobra.  
  
“When we get back Grace is going to hit you.”  
  
“I know.” The red head smiles and runs out into the hall, the other quickly following after. “She’s going to want to smack you too.” He shouts back as they round the corner.  
  
They can see it then, the glass doors that lead out into the street – the place they were shot at last.  
  
Party Poison comes to a sudden halt in front of the receptionists desk. Kobra Kid freezes just out of sight, holds the ray gun ready.  
  
The Asian woman is standing there, a long katana held at her side.  
  
“How do you know the floor plan?” She asks – doesn’t even try to hide her emotions now.  
  
“You still don’t understand?” Poison watches as she draws the sword slowly, threatening.  
  
“I know what I was told, that deadly force can be used against you – that you are  _not_  allowed to reach the zones.” She points the weapon towards him, takes on a peculiar stance.  
  
“My name is Gerard Way, and I know the floor plan because I grew up here.” Poison takes a sudden step to the side as she attacks, skilled in her movements – fluid. He crouches and dodges the next swipe of the blade. “I’m not in your system because I was erased from it.”  
  
“Why?” She snaps and makes another failed attempt at cutting the man.  
  
“Because we’re the failed experiments.” Kobra appears from behind the wall, fires the raygun at her.  
  
The woman leans just enough out of the way, the blast scraping past her arm and burning a hole into her blouse.  
  
“Experiments?”  
  
Kobra suddenly fires past the woman, at the Drac’s starting to flood into the open room.  
  
 _’You need to go!_  
  
Party Poison turns and looks at the blond man, wide eyed and shocked. The woman takes this moment and attacks again, the blond dodging the movement easily. Poison stumbles backwards but manages to miss the attack.  
  
 _’Go?!’_  
  
He glances around them, takes note of how many Drac’s there are now. He takes a step back, eyes still trained on his brother.  
  
 _’If you don’t go now neither of us are getting out.’_ Kobra fires at the Drac’s inching in on them, points the raygun at the Asian woman as she takes another step forward, poised to strike again.  
  
“You know that little girl, the one you are so keen on taking from us?” Kobra’s eyes are dark, his voice drawing the female’s attention, the attention of some of the Drac’s. “You know why Bl/ind is so eager to get her back? You know why Scarecrow was sent after her?”  
  
The woman purses her lips in response, waits for Kobra to go on.  
  
“She’s the perfect one – their perfect human being.”  
  
Poison inches back again, takes a quick glance at the Drac’s.  
  
 _’You know I’ll come back for you._  
  
 _’You did the first time, I know you will again.’_  
  
“Bl/ind created her, a successful experiment, genetically altered to be used and to control others…”  
  
Poison runs then, out the front doors and into the darkened city. He can hear it as he runs, the blasts of raygun’s and the pain each time his brothers hit. He doesn’t feel the pavement under his feet, doesn’t feel the tightness in his chest or the pain in his side from running as fast as he can.  
  
Every time Kobra – Mikey – dies, he feels numb, an emptiness settling into his mind as his other half disappears from the world once again.  
  
He knows he’ll come back, knows that he’s not  _really_  gone…  
  
But it doesn’t stop the pain in his chest, doesn’t stop the tears that blot out his vision.


End file.
